


Royed Week 2018

by PerfectStorm773



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Art in chapter, Character Death, Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pirate AU, References to Depression, RoyEd Week 2018, Sleep, Tags for chapter five, UNRATED FLUFF, fma 2003 - Freeform, mermaid au, tags for chapter four, tags for chapter three, tags for chapter two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectStorm773/pseuds/PerfectStorm773
Summary: A collection of one-shots for each prompt for RoyEd Week 2018Day 1: Fighting/Making upDay 2: Celebration/StillnessDay 3: Canon/AUDay 4: Beginnings/EndingsDay 5: Cold/WarmthDay 6: Together/ApartDay 7: Domesticism/War





	1. I'll always come home

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1, Making-up
> 
> After a lot of back and forth with myself, I decided to leave the reason for the fight unmentioned. I'll leave it up to you to come to your own conclusions.

The knock on the door came late at night, the sound of metal against wood much softer than it usually was as if the owner of the automail  didn't want Roy to answer the door.

But Roy heard it anyway. He'd been up for hours, hoping Edward would come home. 

Roy got up from where he'd been sitting in his armchair and felt his knees crack. He'd sat in that chair long enough to watch the light on the walls turn orange, long enough for the room to go dark. He never bothered to turn on the lights. He was afraid that if he got up, he'd give up and go to bed, and sleep through any kind of reconciliation  Ed would offer if Ed planned on coming home again at all that night.

The argument was stupid. They always were. They were always born of Edward's own insecurities, and Roy had been stupid enough to point that out. 

Or, at least most of the fights were. This time the fault was all Roy's. It seemed as though he couldn't let himself have anything nice for too long.

Roy switched on the lights as he walked along to his front door, and opened it quickly. Not allowing any time for Ed to turn around and leave.

The moonlight outside was weak, but the warm light coming from inside the house was more than enough to illuminate where Edward stood, his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the concrete steps. He had his shoulders arched up and tensed as his right hand held tight to the handle of his suitcase. The bag he packed with all he owned in the world, while Roy stood helplessly by, speechless all those hours ago when Ed had slammed the front door behind him without a word.

"I missed the last train," Ed told him, the words forced out as quickly as he could. "I'm glad," Roy said, guilt gathering in his chest. "I never wanted you to leave." Ed's eyes darted up to meet him, just for a second. "I wanted to, for a while there." Roy stepped to the side, "Come back inside, Ed. I'll put on some tea." Roy turned in to the kitchen, but a glance over his shoulder told him that Ed was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking no more at home than he did outside.

"Can't we just go to bed?" Edward asked, sounding more tired than Roy could remember in recent days. "Can't we just go to sleep and forget what we said?" "You can go to sleep if you'd like to, Ed." Roy answered him, "But I'd still want to talk about this tomorrow." "I'm sorry." Ed had dropped his suitcase at the stairs and now stood in the threshold of the kitchen, watching Roy put the kettle on to heat with dark circles under his eyes. "I don't know what you're apologizing for, Edward." Roy told him, "You don't have anything to be sorry for." Roy should go and get the tea from the cupboard. The mugs, too, but he felt frozen in pace. "I do." Roy said, "I said things I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. You had every right to leave today, and you did. I don't know why you came back. You shouldn't have." Roy couldn't stop the words at this point. "You should've gone home. You should've-" Roy felt two arms enclose him from the side, one warm flesh and the other cold steel. It had been a long time since he had flinched from it.

"Shut up," Edward said, his voice muffled from where he had his face pressed into Roy's shirt. 

 

Roy stood stone still and stiff.

"I said some stupid shit, too." Edward reasoned. "So I'm sorry."

Roy felt the prickling of tears.

"But you left," Roy said. "I thought you were gone."

"I was upset," Edward said, pulling away, and moving just to the side so that he could at least see Roy's face, who still hadn't looked away from the kettle, that was now steadily releasing steam. "I wasn't thinking. But I still came home."

 _Home._ The simple word made all the difference. For all the time Ed had been staying in Roy's house, he had not yet once called it home.

Roy finally turned away from the stove, and let Edward hug him properly.

"As long as you let me, all always come back home."


	2. It will take some time and work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all the fighting he'd endured throughout his entire life, the gentle quiet of the evening cicadas felt uneasy.  
> Conqueror of Shamballa AU
> 
> I know this is a day late, sorry! I'll have a chapter for each day, but I'm afraid I'm a day behind for them all.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, and the light on the walls went from a bright daytime yellow to a soft evening orange, the guests in the house began to leave for their own homes.

Eventually, even Alphonse, so happy to have his older brother home safe, left with one last look over his shoulder. 

Edward didn't want to see him go, but he was tired enough to admit he would need some sleep himself, soon.

But now that it was just himself and Roy in the lonely old house, he felt anxiety begin to crawl up his spine. He was back home in Amestris, back home with Roy, the Thule Society was gone, and the gate to that other world closed, but he still felt wound up like a spring pressed too far down. He still felt tense, still felt ready to spring into action as soon as this fragile peace was shattered.

After all the fighting, all the war, and all the fear he'd endured throughout his short twenty years, the gentle quiet of the coming night and the dull buzz of the cicadas outside felt uneasy. Felt wrong.

He heard a car pass by, and saw the illumination from the headlights shine in through the windows onto the walls, saw it reflect in the glass he was holding oh-so-carefully in his newly replaced automail hand. It all seemed so surreal. So unbelievable he was back home where he belonged.  

AS the light and sound of the car faded away, Edward tipped his glass back and stared down at the amber liquid. He hadn't had much to drink that night, or to eat either, but he really didn't feel like having much, anyway. He was so happy earlier. Happy to be home, happy to see that all his friends and family were safe, but all the while he had that old familiar rock in his stomach. A dark thing that slowed him down, kept his happiness from being what it could be and sucked away at his energy until this was all that was left of him. 

 

The scrape of the kitchen barstool next to Ed startled him for just a moment. He hadn't heard Roy walk up to the counter.

Maybe he had more to drink than he had thought, Ed thought to himself as Roy sat down on the stool next to him, Roy sitting his own drink on the counter next to him.

"It'll get better," Roy said.

Ed turned his head slightly, just enough to try to see Roy's face. Roy was looking straight down into his own drink, but Edward was focused on the straps to his eyepatch. 

Ed hadn't yet gotten an explanation for that, but, for now, it could wait. He had the rest of his life here, after all.

"I feel like a hypocrite saying it, but it's true." Roy continued on. "You feel restless, like something is about to happen, right?"

Ed gave a nod, feeling as though words would become trapped in his throat.

 

"It'll get better," Roy repeated himself. It will take time, and work. But you'll get used to the peace. We both will."


	3. I thought you were a myth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Day three of Royed week: AU
> 
> I've actually been working on little bits and pieces of this AU for a bit now. If you'd like to see more of it, check my tumblr, and my mermaid au tag.  
> perfectstorm773.tumblr.com

Edward sat shock still on the edge of the bed, looking down into the glass of water the crew had given him.  
He didn't really understand why they had given it to him, and it didn't carry the salty smell of the sea, but the ripples that formed as the ship moved about in the waves gave him something to focus on, so he held it anyway.

The wounds from the rough rope of the net still burned, and the kindness the humans aboard the ship had shown him by treating and wrapping them did little to ease the fear of his rapidly beating heart.  
Alphonse and Winry were still out in the sea. Were they following the ship? Were they continuing on without him, or had they turned around and gone home, assuming him dead?  
He might as well be. Edward moved his fin ever so slightly, feeling the sting of the two rips. Struggling against the pull of the net had torn right through his fins, leaving it near useless. If he tried to swim now, he'd only fall down to the bottom of the sea, unable to move.

The door to the room he was held in creaked open and Edward glanced up just long enough to recognize the man walking in.  
He didn't yet have a name for the man with the black hair and eyepatch, but he could tell he was supposed to be in charge.

He walked until he was a few feet from the bed, just far enough away to be out of reach, and spoke.  
"Can you understand me?" He asked.

Edward hesitated for just a second before he said a simple, "Yes."  
It felt wrong. Speaking without the filter of ocean water. Merpeople had lungs to breathe air when they breached, though his kind rarely did, preferring the darker depths of their homelands. He had come to the surface before when he was young and had done it recently hunting. The schools of fish had migrated past his home, and it was much easier this time of year to try and catch one of the birds that would circle above. But he had never spoken above water.

The man was openly staring at Edward, his eyes moving from fin to fin. "How many like you are there?" He finally asked.

"Like me?" Edward repeated his question, not quite understanding.

"Half-fish." The man tried to clarify.

It was hardly accurate, but Edward understood what he was trying to say. "I don't know. Thousands, I guess. Don't you know?"

"Hardly." Came the answer, "I thought your kind were a myth. Sirens, merpeople, tales from people telling stories to keep their children from the sea."

Edward's kind knew of humans, knew that their population was bursting at the seams, destroying the world they lived in, and found it odd that they knew nothing of those who lived in the sea but did not press the matter.

Silence hung in the air for a moment. "Do you have a name?"

"Edward." Ed gave the quick answer. His last name didn't matter.

"Roy Mustang." The man, Roy, stuck out his hand.

Edward looked at it for a moment, furrowing his brows as he tried to work out what he wanted.

Roy waited another moment, before letting out an awkward cough and withdrawing his hand, sticking it back into a pocket on his coat. "Your fin," He spoke again, "What can we do for it? I doubt bandages could do much."

Edward felt hesitant to say anything. He didn't know this man. He didn't know what he had to gain from helping him, but at the same time, Edward was alone. He had no family here with him. He had nothing to lose.

"Would it help to stitch it up?

Edward shrugged and looked back down into his cup of water. He stared into it for just a moment before he startled at the feeling of someone touching his tail.

He tried to jerk away, but Roy had the part that flared into his caudal fin held tightly in his right hand, while his left hand produced a spool of thread and a needle from his pocket. "It couldn't hurt to try." Roy said, "If you'd let me."

"Go ahead." Edward agreed. The worst possible outcome would be that his fin didn't heal, and it wasn't exactly going to heal without any kind of treatment, anyway.


	4. At the very end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No drawing this time, sorry!

Standing tall before the headstone, Roy had never felt so small.  
He wasn't alone. Now more than ever he had friends and family to support him, but still, he felt alone. 

The years had passed quietly and with each one another small victory. Roy was one hurdle away from his fuhrership, but when he finally made it to the top, he would have Riza and his team by his side, but for the first time in over a decade, he wouldn't have Edward.

He didn't cry today. Maybe that was a good thing, maybe not. Maybe he had cried all he ever would, these last few months. 

No one was here with him today. Roy had been waiting for privacy here, some time to talk with Edward, but now that it had come, he found himself at a loss for words.   
What was there to say?  
Edward was no longer here with him, and there was no one to listen.   
Small sprouts of grass had begun to grow over the upturned dirt, and the flowers resting over the grave had begun to wilt.

Roy didn't have much time left here in Resembool.   
Soon, he would have to return to Central and continue to work. Bereavement leave did not last forever, no matter how much he wished that it did.  
Part of Roy wanted to stop. He wanted to retire and stay here. Stay close. But he knew that Edward would never approve. He'd gotten this close to the top. He could quit when he finally made the changes he had promised to.   
Another part desperately wanted to dig up those old alchemy books. He wanted to try and bring Edward back.  
But he never would. What would Edward think if he knew?  
Roy wouldn't let himself be that weak. 

He would try to be strong.   
He was strong for Edward in the very end. He was strong for his family during the funeral preparations.   
He didn't know how much strength he had left in him.


	5. You’re hot and you’re cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on a cell phone while sitting in a driveway of a strangers house, sitting next to boxes of comics, and a dog.  
> So forgive any errors.

Automail was a strange thing to learn to live with, Even if you weren’t the person using it, Roy decided one night.

Roy never had a problem with being cold. From his time spent in the Isvallan deserts to the simple old fact that he was the Flame Alchemist, he never had to worry about cold nights.  
No, he spent his nights with his blanket flung off the bed, limbs splayed away from each other as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, sweating and praying for sleep.

Edward, however had the opposite experience.  
The automail limbs meant less blood volume, lower blood pressure, and finally a lower central body temperature.  
He spent his nights cold, clutching the blankets around him as he fought to sleep.

But now that they were together, they didn’t really have those problems anymore.  
Sure, there were the nights when the heating unit broke down in the winter and they’d pile on sheets and blankets and huddle together, or those hot summer nights where neither one wanted a single sheet and slept as far apart as possible because even skin contact was too much, but mostly, they slept well now.

Becuase the cold of Edwards automail kept the heat at bay for Roy, and Roy’s own body heat kept Ed warm as they slept entangled up in one another.

And it was wonderful. Roy spared one hand to hike up a blanket over his shoulder carefully, so that it didn’t cover Ed’s face from where he had it pressed into Roy’s shoulder.

Wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, and with the chill of Ed’s arm and leg to keep the temperature low, Roy found himself slowly drifting back off to sleep.


End file.
